Free Whom Gods Destroy by Clifton Adams Page A

back, still damp from the shower, and I felt a kind of gentleness that I had never felt before. I pressed her close, but not hard. When I kissed her again, the fire was still there but the savageness was gone.
    “Roy, is anything wrong?”
    “No.”
    Her eyes were puzzled when I released her and the folds of her robe fell back into place. I couldn't explain it to her because I wasn't sure what was happening myself.
    There was a wall phone near the head of the bed, so I used it to call the office and tell them I had car trouble and they would have to give my orders to another runner. Then I went into the two-by-four kitchenette and made two drinks with plain water. I came back in with the drinks and Vida was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with those silent eyes.
    “Did you ever think what would happen,” I said, “if Sid found out a thing like this was going on? Sid can be a tough boy. He could kill you if he got mad enough.”
    She shrugged faintly.
    “It doesn't matter to you?” I asked.
    “Not much.”
    I sat down beside her and looked at my drink. Two or three minutes went by before I said, “It looks like we'd better get ourselves straight, Vida. A thing like this isn't very smart for either of us. You've got Sid, and I've got plans.”
    “I think I already know what they are. You mean to move in on Sid, don't you?” I almost dropped my drink at that, but she went on before I could say anything. “And that means you'll have to move against Seaward, too. That will be dangerous, Roy.”
    I tried to sound surprised. “Now that's a hell of an idea! What makes you think I'd try to shove around a man like Seaward?”
    She looked at me and then at her drink. “I don't know exactly. I think it's Lola Keating. Are you still in love with her, Roy?” But she didn't wait for an answer. “I think you are,” she said flatly. “You think you hate her —still, you're willing to fight men like Seaward for her special benefit. What are you trying to prove?”
    “I'm not trying to prove anything. I hate her guts.”
    “Love and hate are very close sometimes,” she said. “What do you feel with me, Roy?”
    She put her drink down and lay back on the bed. The robe fell open.
    “Come here,” she said softly.
    Those white arms came up and went around my neck and pulled me down. “Don't talk. We can talk later. Don't talk,” she kept crooning. And I didn't.
    There was no way of knowing how much time had passed. I lay in the soft circle of her arms, thinking nothing, drinking in a great feeling of peace. It was strange, the way I felt about her. For that moment it was almost as if we were the only two people in the world.'
    “Did you like it?” she asked.
    “What do you think?”
    She laughed soundlessly. “What do you think of me, Roy? Do you think I'm bad?”
    “No—but you scare me.”
    She lifted her face from my shoulder and looked at me. “I think I can see what is going on in your mind,” she said finally. “You think I do this all the time, don't you? Because my husband is a lush, and he's no good in bed, then it makes sense for his wife to take her loving where she finds it. You wouldn't believe me if I told you there had been nobody else before you, would you?”
    “I believe you.”
    “Then what is it?”
    “I'm afraid I'm falling in love with you.”
    I hadn't meant to say it—but there it was. A minute passed, or an hour, and there in the quiet of the room I could feel my insides winding up tighter and tighter. I think I prayed then, the first time I'd ever tried it. God, don't let her laugh! I pleaded.
    She didn't laugh. She said, “Hold me close, Roy. Hold me as close as you can.”
    The worst was over. The terrible sickness that had been closing in on me began to retreat.
    She said softly, “When did you decide, Roy?”
    “Just a little while ago. When I first came in, I guess.”
    “What was it like?”
    “I—I don't know. When I kissed you, I wanted you but I was afraid